


suffocate

by PaperThinRevolutionary (SingFortissimo)



Series: dénouement [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (peace), im projecting again, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:26:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingFortissimo/pseuds/PaperThinRevolutionary
Summary: At least the static couldn’t leave him, too





	suffocate

If the room was staying the same size, he was none the wiser. It felt like all of the walls were closing in and tightening around him, pounding at his chest with an intensity that he only felt on the worst of days. His eyes were burning, but he wouldn’t admit it to himself, even when he felt the tears starting to streak down his cheeks. 

Nothing felt quite like this loneliness, bitter and burning in his blood stream. The weight compressing on him was stifling his breathing, suffocating him on his own anxiety and the liquor he tried to drown it in. His shaking hands just kept reaching for the bottle that night, and the little bit of logic ticking away in the back of his mind just couldn’t scream over the demons. 

It wasn’t exactly the loneliness when he got down to the core of the issue. Loneliness could be dealt with somehow, by going out, being surrounded by people, even if he wasn’t with someone he knew, he could at least be with people. No, not loneliness as much as the blatant abandonment, the dwindling attentions, the messages being left on read and the others being blatantly ignored. The phone calls unanswered, the dates cancelled, and the dismissive tone of voice the rare times that they actually met in person. 

Loneliness could be dealt with, but it was better to be murdered than abandoned, he thought, because then at least he wouldn’t be losing sleep trying to figure out _why_. The thought burned away at his brain and gnawed away at his sanity. Other than this, he really didn’t have it so bad. He had his home, his job, his pets, but those could only get him so far when he could feel, every second, his friends drifting further and further away from him. It was almost as though he was being shunned away from his own little family, the safety net that had given him something to lean on when he first built his life. 

Sure, friendships would dwindle away with time, they would fade, and people just naturally grew apart. He had no issue with that, but it all seemed to happen at once, hitting him with the power of a freight train. If he could have predicted the separation coming, maybe it would have been fine, if he could have seen this approaching, at least he could have braced himself or stepped off of the tracks. 

Not this time, though. It hit all at once. One day, everything was fine, and the next it was radio static. Silence, unreturned messages, ignored phone calls. Sure, everyone has bad days. 

A week passed, still nothing. All he knew was that his friends were still hanging out together. He saw them in photos together, so they must have been making plans away from him. Their group chats were dead, so more must have begun without him. 

It was all his fault, it was the only answer, and whatever he had done was bad enough that it wasn’t even worth attempting to fix. He was a broken toy, easier dropped in favor of a new one. 

The only explanation was that it was easier without him, that everyone would be happier without him. 

Removing him from their lives was easy, apparently. He wondered if they even spared a thought about him anymore. Knew it was better that they didn’t. Whatever he had done wrong was better left far away from their lives. 

He had spent so much time trying to heal, too. He had been on a steady upward climb from where he had been. Things had been awful years back when they met. He had gone through therapy, he began his recovery, and they were with him every step of the way. He hadn’t relapsed in months, and there was no sign of another until the static walled him into his own personal hell. 

Maybe that’s what had driven them away, knowing that at any time, for any reason, he could crumble again. 

Maybe that was it, and he couldn’t blame them for that. 

Or perhaps he had been coming on too strong. Part of his recovery had been his friends, and most of his treatment revolved around spending his time with them, learning how to love himself and how to love others. 

How to let himself be loved. 

The weight was too heavy on them, he considered. He only wished they would have told him sooner if that was the case. He could have figured something else out, learned to cope in some other way and held himself together in another fashion. 

Everything changed all at once, and it was all his fault. Suffocating in static was better than suffocating in abandonment anymore. 

He picked up the bottle beside him, tilted it back and emptied the rest. It didn’t even burn anymore. 

So that was it. The bottle was gone, the static was crushing him. 

He let himself lay back. Embraced it the best that he could. 

At least the static couldn’t leave him, too.

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd vent fic to try and compartmentalize some shit that's been manifesting in my mind for a little while. sorry for dumping it on john again but it helps me out. 
> 
> until next time, with a hopefully happier piece, 
> 
> -krys


End file.
